The Bodyguard (is the Omega)

17

Castiel climbed onto the bed, taking Dean's wrists and twisting them behind his back like some sort of mock take down. It was probably his own resolve that was being broken down, thought Castiel as he tied Dean's hands together with pieces of the expensive lingerie he had so considerately worn to their date. The silk bit into Dean's wrists and he shuddered some more, his hips wavering. Castiel let his fly scrape against Dean, so that the rough acid wash of his box store jeans grazed along the dusky sensitive bits of flesh hanging between Dean's legs. The skin instantly saturating with a rush of blood, turning a satisfying shade of reddish brown as Dean shivered. Castiel grabbed Dean by the hipbones, angling him carefully.

"Prophylactics and lubrication, Dean."

"In my jacket pocket."

Castiel pulled up his shirt out of his jeans, opening his buttons so they wouldn't rip off. Rolled down his pants and briefs to mid thigh. Grabbed the supplies and took his time to sheath himself.

"Thought you were Mr Prepared," Dean was all mouthy defiance above the neck and wanton lust below. "Sometime before dawn would be nice."

Castiel spared a hand to pinch Dean. Dean whined loudly. He was more responsive and sensitive than any alpha Castiel had ever met. It was how Castiel imagined driving the Impala would be like, overreactive engine and jerky breaks.

"Will it finally shut you up if I fuck you?"

"I dunno, maybe if you are good at it."

That earned Dean another slap and he sighed and melted into the mattress like Castiel had caressed him or something. Dean's fingers, tied behind his back, inched sneakily down, prodding and tugging himself open. Castiel lost it. The gull of the man to present himself like that. Castiel pitched forward to reprimand Dean, condom slapping against the back of Dean's thigh. Dean gave a soft little laugh and then a pained sigh as Castiel's teeth sunk into the back of his neck. Castiel jerked his head back, he hadn't pierced the skin but it had been close. Dean had frozen, his whole body rigid and his breath hitched, his eyes screwed shut. Castiel wanted to get off the bed, put his clothes to rights, get in the car and drive a hundred miles away.

Dean opened one eye a fraction, green eyeball rolling around to peek at Castiel. Castiel fixed his expression, trying for lustful rather than afraid.

"Cas?" Dean asked, worry tinging his voice.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said hoarsely. "I didn't mean to bite you there."

Dean gave a shrug like Castiel had bumped into him on the bus. "It's okay Cas. I didn't mean to almost come just now either."

Castiel blinked, Dean was smirking at him, biceps straining as his fingers dug around restlessly. "You put me in this position Cas, makes me think you'll take care of me. Now I'm not so sure you can."

"You don't have to keep arguing with me to turn me on," Castiel said and he sounded belligerent even to himself.

"Just helping you to ease in," Dean's eyelashes fluttered. "We can pretend to mate, if you want."

"I'm not mating you," Castiel said sharply. "I'm fucking you."

"Call it whatever, just do it."

And Castiel could see it coming, the argument and the fight, but he was going to have this, he was going to give Dean this before then. If Dean was going to smash his heart to pieces, it may as well be worth it and Dean was worth the incipient ache in his chest.

Dean collapsed onto the bed when Castiel sunk in. Moving fast then slow, throwing Dean off his rhythm, biting his arm when he panted, kissing him when he sobbed. Dean smelled like chocolate cake, like fresh baked bread and Castiel suddenly realised that Dean always smelled like this. It was stronger naked and up close but it wasn't so much more intense than the first moment they had met. Than every interaction they have had.